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“I don’t know.” He looks around. “Diane told me to find Mr. Hunsaker.” He rubs his chin, and I can’t help but notice the brown stubble that curves over the hard lines of his jaw. “Am I in the wrong spot?”
“No, this is right. Mr. Hunsaker wasn’t feeling well, so I stepped in for him.” I turn back to the waiting strings and try to ignore the excitement rolling through my stomach.
Is this fate’s way of testing me because I said I was no longer attracted to handsome men?
Because so far, it’s been testing me a lot.
I spent my entire drive home from Meet the Teacher Night thinking about Tyler Dixon. Even the dramatic songs on my 80’s breakup playlist didn’t derail me. His barely noticeable dimple on his left cheek, his easy smile, and the way his strong hand wrapped around Krew’s shoulder played on repeat through my mind over and over all week long.
I’ve decided there’s nothing sexier than a man snuggling his son close.
But I shouldn’t be thinking about Tyler and his sexy, fatherly attributes. I’ve sworn off men. Or at least men that are as attractive as Zak Kershaw and Tyler Dixon.
Yep, I’m changing my type. Turning over a new leaf and dating the nice guy.
Muscles?
Pffft.Who needs them?
Gorgeous smiles?
Overrated.
Mad flirting skills?
Lame.
Give me all your pudgy,doormatkind of men. Yeah, that’s my new type.
Tyler pulls his folding chair right next to mine and takes a seat. “Put me to work.”
Did I hope I’d see Tyler Dixon at the carnival tonight?
Yes.
Did I want to bethisclose to him?
No.
Because when I’m this close to him, my heartbeat does new things.
“Where’s Krew?” I ask.
“He’s with Diane.”
So we’re alone? Well, us and the five hundred children running around—but it really, really feels like we’re alone.Maybe it has something to do with the giant piece of blue plywood hiding us from the rest of the world.
But this isn’t a big deal.
I can resist a man like Tyler.
I straighten. “The game is easy. When a child throws their fishing line over the board, you grab a prize and attach it to the line.”
“I can handle that.” He smiles, and I can see the trace of his dimple. I avert my eyes. His dimple might be a weapon, but it will not destroy me.
We sit in awkward silence for several painful seconds.
“How have you been?” Tyler finally asks.
